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User blog:DB Baxter/The Madman's Verse - Call to Arms
Hafnir and Dalacon walked up the wooden steps towards Dar’Zah’s door. The Nord knocked lightly on the door 3 times, and waited. “Is it necessary to drag this drunken wretch back into things?” Dalacon grumbled, leaning against the railing of the porch. “Surely, we could find someone who isn’t an alcoholic, womanizing, kletpo-“ “Shut it,” Hafnir barked at him. “If you don’t like it, you can quit and go back to your cell.” Dalacon snorted and gave Hafnir a look of amusement. “I like this newfound aggression of yours." The Nord ignored Dalacon, and simply waited for the door to be answered. Soon enough, a Khajiit woman opened the door. Her auburn fur had been discolored by the effects of age, and she had a weary look in her eyes. “Hafnir?” She said, surprised. “What… What are you doing here?” “Afternoon, Riherra,” The nord gave a short nod. “I’m sorry to pop by so suddenly, but we need to see Dar’Zah. Is he home?” Riherra’s gaze had shifted over to Dalacon meanwhile. Her grip on the door frame had tightened. “Huh? Oh, um… yes, he’s home. I’ll go get him.” She disappeared quickly, shutting the door behind her. “Should I just wait out here?” Dalacon asked, a slight smirk on his face. “I get the feeling I’m not wanted here.” “Oh, trust me, you aren’t wanted here,” Hafnir said. A few more moments passed in silence. “You know, I’m quite interested now, what has the world been told about my arrest? Judging by her look of fear, I assume the Empire didn’t attempt to cover it up?” Dalacon asked “They did. But the papers filled up with conspiracy theories on what happened. ‘The Rogue Battlemage’, that’s was the headlines the day after it got out that you were arrested. They claimed you were a Dominion Spy. Claimed you were plotting the assassination of Titus. Some of them claimed you were a demon. Hell, one of them claimed you were selling dead soldiers to Namira cultists,” Dalacon laughed hard at the last one. “I suppose the demon one wasn’t too far off though, was it?” Hafnir remarked under his breath. The door opened again, and Riherra poked here head out. “Please come in. Dar’Zah wants to talk in private.” They were escorted inside, and into the main hall. The walls were adorned with an absurd amount of paintings and golden weapons. A large golden chandelier hung over the entire room, illuminating every crevice and corner with its many candles. The owner of the overly-ornate room sat on a leather divan, outstretched in a comfy-looking brown robe. Despite having the home and clothes akin to that of a nobleman, his features resembled that of an outlaw. His hair was a flat mohawk that fed into a ponytail that drooped down to the bottom of his neck. His ears held up a ludicrous amount of golden earrings, and his face and arms still bore the scars of many close calls and near death situations. Age hadn’t caught up to him yet, as his fur was still as black as night. “Been a while since you’ve visited,” Dar’Zah said to Hafnir as they entered the room. “Been busy, old friend,” Hafnir chuckled. “You always are, aren’t you?” Dar’Zah said. “Seems like they ask you to do everything around this province. Hell, they’re even making you babysit children now,” He nodded to Dalacon. “Funny,” Dalacon rolled his eyes. The two took a seat in chairs that looked as if they came straight out of a king’s throne room. “I suppose you know why we’re here,” Hafnir said. “Goriyn?” “Goriyn.” Dar’Zah sighed and sat up now, at full attention. “I’ve read a lot in the papers. Black Horse Courier, all they’ve talked about the past month is how you haven’t caught Goriyn yet and how you let him out of the dungeons,” He pointed at Dalacon. “Does the opinions of a few worthless journalists matter?” Dalacon asked. “No, but the death count that’s getting higher by the day does matter. Resorting to pulling a public enemy out of jail to catch another public enemy matters, as well. And with the Oculatus letting Titus get murdered over in Skyrim, the public’s starting to lose faith in the Empire. And honestly, so am I.” Riherra came back into the room, setting out platters with tea cups. Dar’Zah quietly thanked her and took a sip. “I don’t direct that towards you, Hafnir. But, an Empire cannot function on the ethic and grit of you alone. The council is clueless, and they’ve lost that rebellion to the north and have the Dominion to the west. And now this uprising with Goriyn-“ “I get it,” Hafnir cut him off, rather harshly. Dar’Zah flinched at his tone. “I get it… ‘The empire isn’t what it used to be’, I’ve heard it. I’ve read the papers, I’ve seen the death count. But unlike most people in this city, I don’t sit in my house and berate the council every chance I get, and hope they’ll magically fix the problem overnight.” There was a knock at the door. “That’s why I’m here asking you. Because I know that if anybody would be willing to stand back up and help fight, it would be you. But was I wrong in thinking that?” Dar’Zah stroked his chin, considering the question. He sat the teacup back on it’s platter. “I am willing to stand, Hafnir. I am still loyal to this empire, but I am no fool. You have not a clue where the Elf is, do you? No plan of attack, no strategy. And here you are trying to drag me into a mission to fight the enemy, but we don’t even know where the enemy is!” Another set of knocks on the door. Hafnir stood up. “I would stand by you if I had a reason to stand,” Dar’Zah said. Another set of knocks. “Riherra, please get the door!” He shouted, annoyed. Hafnir’s fist were balled, and he looked ready to lay into the Khajiit with a vicious verbal thrashing, but he was stopped when Dalacon spoke up first. “You have a reason to stand,” The mage said, standing with Hafnir. “I agree with you, the Empire has fallen apart in recent years. And we don’t know where he is. But for a moment, weigh the alternative.” He grabbed a cup of tea. “You could reject our offer to join this crusade against Goriyn, and send us on our way. And we may very well fail in our efforts. But let me ask, would you be able to live with yourself if you knew that me and Hafnir were murdered, standing and fighting to uphold the Empire’s values, while you sat in here and did nothing?” Dar’Zah cocked his head. “Goriyn threatens each of our existences. He threatens the existence of the entire empire. And the odds are bleak, yes, but I remember an assassin who was ballsy enough to try anything that had a fighting chance,” Another knock. “As long as he had a plan. Dire or fullproof, he always had a plan-“ “And he always made that plan,” Dalacon said. “If he had a slingshot and needed to kill an army, he’d concoct some hair-brained scheme to make it work, right?” Dalacon took a sip of his tea and sat it back on the table. “What happened to him? I’d rather talk to him than this sad sack who’d prefer to sit and do nothing about the impending apocalypse. This person who’d be fine watching his family die-“ “No!” Dar’Zah exclaimed, and hopped up to his feet. “You will not bring them into this, Mage!” Another knock. “Oh, they’re already in this. Every occupant of Tamriel is in this,” Dalacon pointed out. “You sit down for the empire, and you sit down for their lives, as well. I say you stand for the future of your home, of your neighbors, and of your own family. Should Goriyn rise up and find the manpower to attack this city, would you still be satisfied with your choice to sit when they knock down your doors and drag your wife and friends into the street?” He glanced up. “Would you live with yourself if they drag him into the streets to die?” Dar’Zah looked up, and saw his little cub poking his head through the railing. His golden eyes watched the men with curiosity. He sunk back away from the railings when he realized he had been caught evesdropping “Kazrris, go to your room,” Dar’Zah ordered. The little Khajiit nodded and scampered off quickly, and without a word. The Khajiit wearily turned back to the mage. “Okay… I’ll help.” “Good.” “Don’t expect a miracle out of me,” Dar’Zah warned. “I have no idea where this man could be, and I have no clue how long it could take us to track him-“ Another knock. “For the moons sakes, who is at the door?” The Khajiit hissed. He marched past the two, cursing as he went. “You’d think if they knocked long enough they would realize no one was going to get the damn door!” He grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. “What?!” Standing there was an Argonian man, in armor made of leather and exotic furs. Clutched in his scaly hand was a dagger of ebony make. “Mr. Mortis says Hi.” The Argonian thrust his knife forwards, but Dar’Zah’s reflexes allowed him to get out of the way and grab the lizards arm. He struggled for a moment, but that moment was all he had before Dalacon acted quickly and launched a fireball straight into the lizard’s snout. The scales and flesh were instantly incinerated, and all that was left was a scorched skull. “Gods above!” Dar’Zah shrieked, jumping back from the flames. “That almost caught me!” “You’re welcome,” Dalacon nodded, inspecting the corpse. “That was one of Goriyn’s men, no doubt,” Dar’Zah ran a hand through his hair. “God’s damn it, he has come to my home! My home!” “Shut up,” Dalacon spat. Hafnir moved over with Dalacon, and began checking the pockets and pouches on the lizard’s body. “What are you doing?” Dar’zah asked. “It was one man armed with a dagger. This wasn’t Goriyn’s assassin...” Hafnir’s fingers felt something spherical and wrinkled. He carefully grabbed it and brought it out. “It’s his messenger.” He unfolded the paper carefully, so as to not tear it, and smoothed out the creases. In big red letters that looked as if they were hastily scribbled down in blood (And that might have been the case), it read; THE SUN SETS AT THE DAWN. I’LL SEE YOU THERE. TO BE CONTINUED IN THE BRAND NEW RP: THE MADMANS VERSE! Category:Blog posts